


Knocked Up

by Taketheplanspinitsideways (Bec_86)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, HP: EWE, I'm not even going to attempt writing any, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-21 11:38:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bec_86/pseuds/Taketheplanspinitsideways
Summary: The title says it all. Harry and Draco find themselves bonding at a Ministry event. After that they pine after each other for months until the truth of their feelings and their situation come to light. What else can I say? I want to knock their heads together and I've no doubt you will too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm almost finished so this won't be one of those fics that's started but never goes anywhere, don't worry! I'm not sure how many chapters there will be; depends if I add any extra bits or not 
> 
> This is my first long fic and my first proper Drarry work. Please be kind.

Another day, another Ministry party. This had to be the fifth one this year already and it was only August. Ever since the war three years ago, the Ministry had been keen to keep morale high and the best way to do this, so they thought, was by throwing a party every other month. They were usually under the guise of some fake celebration and usually named after a wizard who had done something or other. Harry had lost track of how many he’d been to now and half the time he didn’t even know what or who he was celebrating. All he knew was, as Kingsley had so politely put it: ‘all Ministry employees are expected to attend so quit your moaning, get your dress robes on and get yourself to the party.’ As the Aurors were so respected within the Ministry, it was even more important for them to be there, which was unfortunate for Harry.  
Each party was the same. The same people, the same food, the same speeches, everyone drinking too much and then reminiscing about all they had lost. Same, same, same.  
By the time he’d had a Firewhisky or four, Harry’s frustration was really setting in. Ron and Hermione had spent the evening together on the dance floor, Neville was attempting to woo the latest in a long line of women and there wasn’t really anyone else there that he wanted to spend any time with. His other friends had long ago tired of these functions and as they were employed outside the Ministry, they had not been forced into attending like Harry had.  
As he sat propping up the bar, a familiar blond head appeared alongside him.  
“Potter”, he nodded.  
“Malfoy.”  
After the years they’d spent tormenting each other at Hogwarts, there was still some animosity left between them. However, it had been a while since Harry had faced the fact that most of this was due to his own confused teenage feelings. Although he hadn’t realised it at the time, he was aware now that his Malfoy obsession was in part due to a long-lasting crush on the blond and, after years of bumping into him at Ministry functions, he understood that his crush had never really gone away. Instead, he would usually nod politely when he saw him, gaze at him for the best part of the evening and then go home and wank himself silly. In all these years, he still hadn’t managed to share much more than a few words with his ex-nemesis.  
Harry swirled his drink around in his glass and sighed. “Look, Malfoy. Don’t you think it’s about time we put all of the shit from school behind us? We’re adults now and this is just really uncomfortable.” He looked at Malfoy, studying his face and waiting for a response.  
Malfoy turned his head and raised his eyes to look at Harry. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so. A lot has changed since then and it probably is about time we stopped acting like children.” He reached out a hand and Harry suddenly had a flashback to being eleven years old and refusing Malfoy’s friendship for the first time. This time, however, he took his hand, feeling the surprising warmth in the long pale fingers, and shook it. He looked up to find Malfoy watching him carefully. Harry looked him straight in his silver eyes, lingering for just a little too long before swallowing and hastily looking back down, releasing his hand again.  
“So, um…uh…” Harry cleared his throat, suddenly struggling to get any words out of his mouth. What was wrong with his throat and why did it feel like it had a Gobstone stuck in it?  
“Eloquent as ever there, Potter,” Malfoy smirked.  
Harry chuckled, blushing. “Uh…do you want a drink?” he asked, gesturing vaguely towards the bar.  
“If you’re buying then I wouldn’t say no. None of that Firewhisky crap you’re drinking though, I want something that doesn’t take like rat’s piss if you don’t mind.”  
“Of course you do,” Harry rolled his eyes and waved towards the bar man, ordering two of whatever it was that Malfoy had been drinking earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco sat there waiting for his drink in confusion. Potter had never been interested in sharing more than two words with him before so why was he making the effort now, all of a sudden?   
As the barman passed him his glass, he picked it up and raised it to Potter.  
“Thanks, Potter”  
Potter raised his glass in a sort of returned salute and they sat in silence taking a sip.   
“So, how come you’re at the bar with me and not over there dancing with your fellow Gryffindors?” he asked.   
“What, being Ron and Hermione’s third wheel? Or Nev’s wingman? No, thanks.”  
“What about a date? I’d have thought you’d have your pick of people to bring to these awful Ministry events?”   
Why was he asking about a date? What the hell was wrong with him? He’d barely drank anything and already his mouth was running away with itself. Ever since school he’d had an obsession with Potter’s life; an obsession that was built on resentment, jealousy and, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, attraction. He’d kept tabs on Potter’s private life through the pages of the Prophet and he knew that he would be dancing with men rather than ‘people’. The Saviour’s coming out had been big news, with interviews and photographs appearing for weeks in the newspapers and magazines. However, to Draco’s knowledge, (which was extensive; he made it his business to know these things) there had been no significant other in Potter’s life since the beard that was the she-Weasley.   
“These events are tiresome, I can think of much better places to take someone on a date than this,” Potter snorted.   
“Really, Potter? Like where? I can imagine your idea of a date: probably some Muggle pub for beer and crisps,” he chuckled to himself.  
“Imagining my dates, hey? Well Malfoy, I always knew you took an unusual interest in my life. Now you’re thinking of dating me as well.” Was Potter smirking at him? Or was this some strange parallel universe he’d drifted into on his return from the bathroom?   
“Fuck you Potter. Now, buy me another drink.” He was sailing dangerously close to the truth and Draco knew it, so he hoped a drink might distract him long enough to forget this uncomfortable conversation.   
“Alright, alright, keep your hair on. It was a joke, Malfoy.” Potter gestured to the bar man for two more drinks.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco groaned as he opened his eyes. His head felt as though it might explode, and his stomach was churning. What had he been doing, drinking like that? He should know better at his age. He rolled onto his back, shifting his legs to get comfortable when he suddenly felt his left leg brush up against something warm and hairy. It was another leg!  
Shit. It was all flooding back to him: the handshake, the drinks, the shots at the bar, the sex…  
He’d had sex with Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived, The Saviour of the Wizarding World, The Chosen One, Arch-nemesis from school and Ministry poster boy. Shit, how was he going to get out of this one? He quickly shifted his leg back, closed his eyes again, inhaled and exhaled deeply. Maybe it had been a particularly vivid dream. It’s not like it would be the first time he’d dreamt about sleeping with Potter and it most likely wouldn’t be the last either. Yes, that was it, it must have been a dream.  
He opened his eyes again and looked to his left. Messy dark hair, lightning bolt scar: it was definitely Potter. Shit. If anyone found out about this, he’d be hated more than he was already. Evil ex-Death Eater corrupts Harry Potter. No, he had only just started to build his reputation up again and he couldn’t let this one drunken mistake (is it really a mistake if it’s something you’ve wanted since you were 14?) ruin all of that. He knew Harry had been drunk, would be too ashamed to tell anyone what had happened and that there was no way he would want it to happen again so, to save from the awkward ‘morning after’ conversation, there was only one thing for it.   
As quietly as he could, he slid himself out from under the covers and started to look for his clothes. He was thankful to discover that when he’d thrown them, they’d landed in one big heap which meant he could dress quickly without having to rummage around the room. Once he was fully clothed again, Draco tiptoed almost silently towards the door before dashing down the stairs and out of the front door without looking back. If he had, he would have seen a pair of disappointed green eyes watching him leave.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you sure you’re ok Harry? You’ve been a bit off all day?” Hermione asked, concern written all over her face.  
“I’m fine ‘Mione. Just hungover.”  
In fact, Harry was far from fine. His mind kept drifting back to the previous night. He’d tried to sleep when he got home to clear his hangover, but his mind was working overtime. Eventually, he’d sat himself at his kitchen table and drank several cups of tea, turning the events over and over in his mind.  
“Where did you get to anyway? We came looking for you but Robards said you’d already left.” He was hoping that neither of them would mention his disappearing act but of course Ron seemed keen to find out.  
There was no way he could tell them both the truth about what had happened. He felt stupid enough as it was, without saying it out loud. He’d spent years wanting Draco Malfoy; obsessing over him, following him around like a lost puppy, accidentally on purpose bumping into him at the Ministry; and when he finally thought he had him, he’d sneaked away looking ashamed the morning after. As he’d watched him go, his heart had broken a little and he had no wish to relive the events with anyone, not even his best friends. Clearly his obsession was a one-way thing and, once the alcohol had worn off, Draco was no longer interested in him like he was in Draco. He’d embarrassed himself enough and he had no desire to make it worse by telling his friends. He knew exactly what Ron’s reaction would be, so it was much easier to keep it to himself. Harry let out a huge sigh and willed away the tears that were threatening to form in his eyes. When he spoke again, it was around a huge lump in his throat.  
“I ended up chatting at the bar and then having a shot-drinking session. I was far too drunk, so I came home.” Not exactly the truth but then, not exactly a lie either.  
“Who on Earth were you drinking shots with? The only other friend of ours there was Neville and he was far too busy with that blonde woman to be drinking with you at the bar. Mate, you weren’t drinking on your own, again were you?” inquired Ron.  
“Oh Harry, not again?!” Hermione’s concern was written clearly all over her face.  
“No, I wasn’t drinking on my own! It was just one of the other blokes from the MLE; no-one important. Either way, I had far too many shots and I feel like death warmed up this morning so can we save the questioning for a more sober occasion please?”  
Ron held up his hands in defeat: “Yeah, sorry. You know it’s just because we worry about you. We need to find you someone to bring along to these Ministry functions; you wouldn’t feel the need to drown yourself in alcohol quite so often then.”  
“Yeah, maybe…” Harry sighed. He knew exactly who he wanted to share these functions with but unfortunately, the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. “So, anyway, how come you two aren’t more hungover? You left after I did!”  
The conversation continued but Harry’s heart wasn’t in it and he spent the next half hour distracted. All he wanted to do was hide in his bed under his duvet and never come out again. As soon as his friends left, he retreated back to his bedroom to wallow in his own self-pity.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry hugged the toilet. He’d spent the last 20 minutes or so hanging over it, evacuating the contents of his stomach. It was the fourth morning this week that he’d felt ill but the first time he’d actually been sick. He flushed it and stood up to brush his teeth before returning to the kitchen where his breakfast still sat. On his way out of the bathroom he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked rough, with dark circles under his eyes and pale skin that didn’t suit the features of his usual dark complexion.   
He sat back down at his kitchen table and tentatively took a sip of the tea he’d left there. He was fed up of whatever illness this was now; he felt completely drained and the nausea really wasn’t helping. Looking at the clock on the wall he started, realising he would be late for work if he didn’t leave now. With a sigh and a huge effort, he pulled himself up off his chair and walked towards the Floo.


	6. Chapter 6

“Harry, are you there?”  
He opened one eye to squint in the direction of the voice. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa again, too tired to even make it to his bed when he got home from work.  
“’Mione, is that you? I’m in the living room.” He opened his eyes fully, blinking in the bright light from the lamp next to him. A bushy head of hair appeared in the doorway.  
“I just popped in to see if you wanted to come over for dinner with us.”  
Harry swung his legs round and put his feet on the floor to sit up. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his friend. She looked worried. “Let me get changed first and then I’ll be right over.”  
“Have you been asleep again? You really should get yourself checked over Harry, this is not like you at all. Have you been having any other symptoms? I’m sure they could fit you in at St Mungo’s; I can check for you if you want me to?”  
“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing. I don’t want to fuss; I’ll be back to normal soon enough. It’s just been one of those crazy weeks and I haven’t had much chance to eat or sleep properly that’s all. I’ll have a rest over the weekend and I’ll be fine, trust me. So, what’s for dinner then? Please tell me Ron isn’t cooking,” he laughed.   
Hermione chuckled, “No, can you just imagine? I’m not letting him anywhere near my kitchen! I was thinking we could just get some fish and chips – it’s been ages since the three of us had a chill out evening with takeaway. It could be good for us all. What do you reckon?”   
Harry’s stomach gave a roar and he laughed. “That sounds like a lovely idea. You know what, screw getting changed; let’s just go.” He stood up and almost ran to the Floo in the kitchen, Hermione close behind him. He knew an evening with his friends would make him feel a million times better. He’d been feeling well and truly sorry for himself: between the Ministry party, his mystery illness and the fact he just couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything at the moment and kept messing up at work, he needed to get out of the house and take his mind off everything.


	7. Chapter 7

“Hang on a minute, Ron, let me just get my breath back before we leave,” Harry gulped as he leaned over his desk, one hand resting on his stomach.  
“Are you sure you’re alright to head out? I’m sure someone else could cover for you if you’re not feeling well.” Ron placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’ve not been yourself for weeks now, maybe you should get yourself checked out.”  
Harry knew his friend was worried about him, so he tried to be reassuring, even though he wasn’t feeling too reassured himself.  
“Honestly Ron, I’m fine. Just a bit overworked, that’s all. I’ve not had a break in ages. Thank goodness, I’ve got some time off booked next month; a bit of a rest and I’ll be right as rain again. Now stop fussing and tell that wife of yours to do the same.” He swallowed down the lump in his throat, took a deep breath, and stood upright. “Come on then, let’s get going. The sooner we get out there, the sooner we can get home again.”  
“Well, if you’re sure mate. Just let me know if you’re not, ok? You got everything?”  
“Of course.” Harry turned and smiled at his best friend and Auror partner. They both knew it was forced but it seemed to break the tension all the same. As they headed out of their office door to the apparition point together, Harry was silently anxious. He knew there was something wrong, he’d felt ill for ages, but if he ignored it long enough, he kept telling himself that it would go away. He just hoped that whatever it was would hurry up and go away before anyone else started asking questions.


	8. Chapter 8

As Harry woke up, he saw the familiar white ceiling above him; heard the familiar beep of the machines at the side of his bed. St Mungo’s. Again. Well, at least that meant he’d made it out of there alive.  
“Harry, you’re awake!” Hermione’s voice sounded just a little too high. She’d been crying.   
“We were worried about you mate! You’ve been out for two days. You really need to stop doing this to us; I’m not sure my nerves can take it anymore.” Ron gave a weak chuckle. Two days? It only felt like two minutes.   
“What happened? Did they catch him?”   
“Yeah, they got the bastard. The other Aurors carted him off to Azkaban not long after you were hit.” Ron was looking just a little too gleeful at this; catching criminals was why he loved his job so much and every time it happened, he couldn’t help the childish excitement that came over him.   
“Thank fuck for that!” Harry’s relief was obvious; at least he hadn’t ended up in hospital again for nothing.   
Just at that moment, the door opened and in walked Harry’s Healer. Harry was on first name terms with most of the Healers at St Mungo’s after his frequent visits in his time as an Auror. However, today’s Healer was new to him and thankfully she seemed to not care that he was ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and treated him just as any other patient.  
“Good morning Mr Potter. I’m just going to check you over and make sure your vitals are fine and that there’s no permanent damage. Hopefully, all being well, you’ll be able to return home later today. Would you like your friends to leave the room or are you happy for them to stay?”   
“They can stay.” They’d been there for so many of these examinations that any embarrassment he might have once felt had faded away by now.   
After completing her diagnostics, the Healer turned to speak to Harry.  
“Everything looks fine Mr Potter; all of your vitals are in order and there’s no sign of any permanent spell damage. Although you’re extremely lucky; you shouldn’t be out on the frontline in your condition. It’s irresponsible and an unnecessary risk. I don’t know what you were thinking.”   
“Ah that’s good, thank you...hang on, what? What do you mean, my condition? I’ve always worked on the frontline. I wasn’t aware that I had a medical condition – it’s never come up at any of my previous visits!” Harry was confused. What was this medical condition? It was just his luck. As soon as life seemed to be going smoothly, something had to crop up and spoil it.   
“According to your notes, your last visit was 4 months ago. You’re only around 10 weeks along so it won’t have been picked up then. Either way, you really should be more careful, or you could end up doing serious harm to yourself or your baby.” Her tone was scolding – she was making her disapproval of his recklessness very clear.  
“Wait…what? Baby? What baby? What the hell are you talking about?” He must still be unconscious; his mind was clearly playing tricks on him. It was one of those crazy dreams where you’re in some alternative life, nothing makes sense and you wake up laughing to yourself about how ridiculous it all was.   
“You’re pregnant Mr Potter. I’m sorry, I assumed you knew,” she said, with gentle understanding in her voice. “I’ll give you some time to get your head around this and then I’ll come back with some leaflets for you. You’ll need some potions too; really you should have been taking them sooner but it’s not too late for some extra nourishment. That baby will be draining your energy and magic, so you’ll need to increase your body’s nutrition.” She pushed the door open and left the room.   
Hermione and Ron were still sat at his bedside, watching him. Ron’s mouth was wide open in shock and Hermione had a look of pity in her eyes. Harry lay back against his pillows, hands over his face. It must be a dream. He couldn’t be pregnant, he was a man!  
“But, men don’t get pregnant” he mumbled, confused. His was surprised at how small and scared his voice sounded.  
Gently, Hermione spoke: “Some wizards can, Harry. It must be in the Potter genes somewhere.”   
Why didn’t he know this? After all these years, there was still so much he didn’t know about the wizarding world. Male pregnancy? Whatever next?  
“What confuses me most is how. I mean, I know how you get pregnant obviously, but you’re not seeing anyone, so how did it happen?” Ron was looking at Harry suspiciously. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend?”  
“I, uh. I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not really seeing anyone.” He really didn’t want to be having this conversation with them right now. He still hadn’t told anyone about Draco as it was clearly only a one-off. Oh fuck, Draco! How on earth was he going to tell him that he was pregnant with his child?   
“Immaculate conception then?” chuckled Ron.   
“No, of course not! I just meant there’s been no-one serious. Ron, this really isn’t funny! What the fuck am I going to do? I can’t be having a baby, there must be some mistake! How the fuck am I going to bring up a child? I can barely remember to feed myself!”  
“We’ll find a way Harry” assured Hermione, placing a gentle hand in his arm. “We’ll be here to help and I’m sure the baby’s other father will be keen to help out too!”   
“Yeah, and Mum will be so excited to be a grandma again! You’re practically a Weasley anyway so you’ll have the rest of the family to babysit too! So, are you going to tell us who your mysterious man is? Anyone we know?” Ron winked, clearly looking forward to finding out the gossip. Harry really wasn’t in the mood for this. He pulled his arm away from Hermione and rolled over to face away from them both.  
“I really don’t want to talk about this now. I’m tired; can we chat later?” he sighed.   
“Ok Harry, we’ll be here when you’re ready to talk”   
“What? ‘Mione, we can’t just leave without…Ow! That’s my foot, why are you standing on me?” Harry could imagine the glare Hermione was directing at Ron; he’d seen it so many times before. “Oh…um…yeah ok mate, we’ll catch you later then.”  
After he’d heard the door click shut, he pulled the sheet up to his neck and curled into a foetal position. He stared at the blank wall in front of him and tried to process what he’d been told. Pregnant? What was he going to do? Images flashed through his mind: Draco stroking his rounded stomach; decorating the nursery together; a beautiful blond baby with green eyes; Draco singing and rocking a child to sleep. The thought of it hurt his chest. He always dreamt of having a family and he’d been dreaming of Draco for years but to know that it could never happen how he wanted it was too much to bear. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes as he lay there and hoped for sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

He’d been released from St Mungo’s later that day with several different potions, a stack of leaflets and stern instructions as to how he should be looking after himself and his baby. It hadn’t taken long for his friends to start their questioning again. As much as really didn’t want to talk about it, he knew they were only trying to look out for him. Unfortunately, he also knew that telling them the truth about his baby’s father was not going to make the situation any easier so for now, he was keeping the secret to himself.   
“There’s no way I can face him. I can’t tell him I’m pregnant; it’s just not going to happen” he said as he paced back and forth in front of the fire. If he didn’t stop pacing soon there was a real possibility that he might wear his way through the carpet. Not that he cared either way; if he wore out a hole then maybe he’d fall right through into it and then…ok, maybe, as much as it pained him to admit it, it wouldn’t be such a good idea after all.   
“He can’t be that bad Harry! You did sleep with him after all! No matter who the baby’s dad is, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to find out he’s going to be a father! You’ll see; you’re worrying yourself over nothing, honestly!”  
Harry inwardly laughed to himself. He wondered if she’d change her opinion if she knew that his baby’s father was Draco Malfoy. He knew him well enough to know that there wasn’t a chance in hell of that!  
“Trust me Hermione, he wouldn’t be at all thrilled. Now drop it, please, I just need a way to not tell him and if you’re not going to help me then I’ll find a way round it myself!” he huffed. For someone who was supposed to be his best friend, she sure made his life difficult. Thank goodness Ron was working, otherwise he’d have him defending her and turning red every time a man, pregnancy, babies or sex were mentioned. Ron might be his best friend but in a crisis, his only solution was chess or beer and neither of those options would be much use at the moment.   
“Ok, ok, I trust you. I’m sure you know what’s best, but I really do think you should consider it; whoever he is deserves the chance to be a dad. Of course, you know we’ll keep your secret; that goes without saying. Let me know when you get the date of your next appointment and I’ll come with you.” She kissed his cheek and waved goodbye, stepping through the Floo with a swish of her cloak.   
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be able to relax again. The last thing he needed was another set of questions when all he’d done was question himself since he found out. How on earth was he supposed to know what to do? Having his baby growing inside him was a terrifying experience; he was obviously excited about the prospect of being a father, but he knew he’d have to face it alone.   
After staring at a wall for at least half an hour, he made the decision to go to bed. Tomorrow he’d face work. He had to explain to his boss why he was off field duties, but he had no idea what to say. Hopefully sleep would solve everything, and he’d gain some inspiration overnight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to get this next bit done! Life and work have been pretty hectic but I will try my best to get back to posting every week again asap. I still can't quite believe anyone has bothered reading it but thank you so much to everyone that has left kudos or commented - I love you all :)

Well, it had been a great plan, but it hadn’t worked at all. Even though he’d hoped to find an answer, Harry woke up feeling just as confused as he’d been the night before. Wonderful.   
After very little sleep and a lot of thinking he decided that there were two choices available to him: 1) explain everything to his boss and hope that nobody else found out why he was sat in an office for the next seven months getting fat or 2) speak to Kingsley and ask for an extended leave of absence to ‘travel’ and then hide in the house until he had given birth and no longer had to worry about people seeing him pregnant.   
Neither of these sounded great but unless he was hit with a new idea on his way to work, they were all he had.  
On arrival at the Ministry, he strode straight to his office to speak to Ron and run over his plan. He knew that, if anyone, his best friend would be the one to give him advice.   
After he’d explained his thoughts, he looked up to see Ron frowning at him.  
“So, what do you reckon? I think if I just tell Kingsley I’m out of the country and then don’t leave the house at all then no one needs to know that their saviour has been accidentally knocked up after a one-night stand! And, the added bonus is that the baby’s father doesn’t need to find out either! Win, win situation!”  
“Um, yeah, I think maybe you should ask Hermione’s opinion. I see what you mean; it’d definitely make life easier if you don’t have to explain to anyone but are you sure you can stay indoors and hide for all that time? Don’t you think someone might notice something?” Ron squirmed in his seat looking uncomfortable. He tried to put a smile on his face and reassure Harry, but it looked more like a grimace.  
“I knew you’d understand! See, it’ll be so much easier like this! It’s not that long to hide and if you and Hermione cover for me then it’ll be fine. Thanks Ron!” Harry had heard the first part of what Ron said and quite clearly ignored the rest, choosing to focus on the only bit he wanted to hear.  
“Harry, hang on now, you really should ask ‘Mione to help. She’s the practical one. Harry? Harry!” But it was too late; Harry had already dashed out the door and half way down the corridor, looking like a man on a mission. “Shit, shit, shit, she’s going to kill me,” Ron muttered to himself.


End file.
